Oh! The hurdle of wind.
Oh! The negligible string.
It cuts me,
Though I see no scar.
The kiss from,
from someone so far.
I see no blood,
I feel no blade,
Lovely, as it feels
I repent, but it\'s too late.
Is it love?
Is it faith?
Is it my death?
The destiny awaits.
Sorrowful, the day might feel.
Handing ropes, wherever I kneel.
The culture of dark and disdain,
A profound soul, but the suffering in vain.
Oh! The impure frame.
May thee shatter,
May thou earn wisdom
From the satanic chatter.